


Sheith Kink Week 2020

by nigiyakapepper



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Altered Mental States, Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Consensual Non-Consent, Consentacles, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Use, Ear Sex, Exhibitionism, Foot Fetish, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Language Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Meld, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Hunk (Voltron), POV Second Person, Ritual Public Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Scents & Smells, Sex Toys, Sub Keith (Voltron), Subspace, Tentacle Sex, Weddings, brain fuck, gentle dom Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23854858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nigiyakapepper/pseuds/nigiyakapepper
Summary: Individual prompts actually have a little bit of the rest of the prompts in them. Be mindful of the tags.Day 1 - Mind: D/s, Gentle Dom Shiro & Sub Keith, SubspaceDay 2 - Objects: Hunk's POV, kinda exhibitionism, bullet vibesDay 3 - Language: Shiro being turned on by Keith speaking / writing in GalranDay 4 - Pain & Pleasure: Age gap, drugs, consensual non-consent, top!Shiro & bottom!KeithDay 5 - Restraint & Release: Consentacles, Mind Meld & Brain FuckDay 6a - Unpleasant & Uncommon: BoM members Galra!Shiro & Keith, Ear SexDay 6b - Unpleasant & Uncommon: Scents & Smells, Shiro's got a Thing for Keith's feetDay 7 - Influenced: Nontraditional ABO, Ritual Public Sex, Aphrodisiacs, alpha!Shiro & omega!Keith
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 184





	1. DAY 1 - D/s, Gentle Dom Shiro & Sub Keith, Subspace

Your skin itches. Your body is overly hot. Your heart pounds, erratic. Your legs are aching, you’re slick & sore, your dick is on fire and you’re so _so_ close but you aren’t there. You’re just not there. Not yet.

You feel before hear Shiro hushing you against your ear, and then you realize you’ve been crying, pleading. For him to touch you, for release, for him. _For him, for him._

“I’m here, love. You’re doing so well.”

It’s beyond you to understand what he’s said, but you process the praise and it fills you. It fills you and stays the need, only for a moment. You’re back to whimpering and thrashing against him.

“Baby, _gods_ , look at you. So beautiful and lovely.”

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s brought you to the fierce edge and gently back down again. It’s madness. It’s heaven. Your cock is angry purple, straining against its ring. Your ass has molded to the shape of his fist. Time, words, meaning, all things have been burned from your mind and all you know is Shiro.

Shiro & sensation.

“Stop chasing it, love. Just let yourself feel it.”

The world has gone muted. The shape of your mind is gone. You feel the sweet ache of some parts of your body, while others are just not there. Shiro is inside you, but what he’s doing has lost all meaning. You just feel, you’ve been feeling for hours, days. It’s so good, _it’s so good_. But it’s just not. There yet. You know there’s more. There could be more but there’s part of you that’s scared. Your need is so great, the swell of sensation so full that you will inexorably, explosively lose all control.

“Trust me, Keith,” Shiro breathes against you. It’s gentle fire the way he kisses up the straining line of your neck to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I’ve got you.”

And he does, by god he does. Your heart has burst. The feeling travels up your spine and unspools the tangles in your head. You are not yours to control. You are Shiro’s. Your pleasure is his. And he brings you where he wants. What he desires, you desire. You sway, you’re pulled, you follow.

Your revelation is a cry you deliver unto his mouth. The last threads you hold of yourself released. Shiro holds you and gives and gives _and gives_ and doesn’t let you go. It’s good, it’s good, _it’s so so good_. You feel your eyes roll up in your head as Shiro suspends you on a high.

You feel words spill from you, mindless babble. You trust Shiro to catch what they are.

“I love you, too.” He’s weeping at the sweetness of your surrender. “I love you so much.”

You are Shiro’s.

His, his, his.


	2. DAY 3 - Shiro being turned on by Keith speaking / writing in Galran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> days/prompts now out of order since i lost the draft for day 2 ^^; it'll turn up around the end of the week. i just have to get around to re-writing it. i'll re-order the chapters after everything's posted.

Shiro has long accepted that seeing Keith grow into his own is his pleasure. Over the years, more than a fierce sense of pride, it sparks a bit of heat in his belly, even more so after the war and they’ve become more indulgent with their affections.

He shimmies into bed excitedly, hair still damp from the shower, and snuggles up to where Keith is cozily answering Galran language drills on his datapad. He heavily rests his head against Keith’s bicep, the small amount of sorry he feels for weighing down the arm holding up the pad smoothed away by the tender kiss to the top of his head.

“What’re you doing,” Shiro asks.

“Conjugating verbs. The third degree ones with a lot of meanings. The _θaʃrek_ changes depending on the speech act. It gets really fiddly.”

Shiro doesn’t have the slightest clue what that all means. He knows his smile is moony as he stares up at the soft look of focus on his fiancé’s face. The way he sounded his tongue between his teeth and rolled his ‘r’s tugs at his dick. A little.

“You’re getting really good.”

Keith flushes prettily and smiles as he toils away at his verbs. “I gotta be. I gotta pass the proficiency test before the Blades give me Commander status. I guess it makes sense.”

Shiro hums and snuggles further. Keith takes to languages like many of his skills – a duck to water. The speed in which he has as well is a marvel. Keith is a marvel. Pride is a joy that fills familiar spaces in Shiro’s heart. He watches Keith’s hands fly across the keyboard and wishes he were doing one of the writing exercises instead – where he has to use the chisel-tip stylus to write the Galran letters. Shiro loves watching the controlled, elegant motion of it, not unlike his own _shodo_ exercises when he was much, much younger.

The datapad pings with an incoming video call from Krolia, as is wont during evenings. Shiro gives Keith’s arm a squeeze before albeit regretfully shuffling away to give mother & son their privacy. He’s just out of frame & tries to busy himself with his own datapad while Keith answers his. His hand finds Shiro’s and tangles their fingers.

“Hi mom,” says Keith.

“Hello, little star,” says Krolia. The voice is warm and indulgent. The next things she says, Shiro recognizes is Galran for ‘how are you’ and Keith answers in kind.

He’s not sorry for eavesdropping, he really isn’t. He’s staring at his datapad with a dopey smile as he listens to Keith carefully weave the earthy Galra sounds together into words. Krolia has been talking to him more & more for practice and it _sounds so good._

Shiro’s heard Galran before, in barked commands, ugly battle cries, jeers & sneers aimed at him during his time in captivity. He’s honestly only gained appreciation for it because of Keith – the guttural sounds, the rolling ‘r’s, the breathy ‘v’s and ‘h’es, the lilts and nasals & all the others trills and chirps Keith’s mouth and throat have come to sound with ease. It blends together in a delicious, velvety, melodious rasp paired with Keith’s timbre that Shiro loves and the careful way he pronounces things that stokes the fire in Shiro’s belly.

He listens as Krolia gently corrects a word use and Keith dutifully repeat the construction. Unable to help his fondness, he plants a kiss to Keith’s bare shoulder and doesn’t miss Krolia grin when she sees.

“Hello, Shiro.”

“Ma’am.”

She notes their state of undress and her grin turns shark-like. “I want to know how you are, Shiro. But I will leave you boys to your evening for now.”

“I’ll send a message in the morning,” he says. Keith beams in the way he can’t help when he sees his mom and Shiro interact.

“I’d like that. Rest well and take care of each other. _I love you._ ” Krolia says the last bit in Galran, Shiro recognizes as one of the first things Keith taught him.

“ _I love you, too. Be well,_ ” he says, careful to use to familial form rather than the intimate one.

“ _I love you, mom,_ ” Keith says, using the shorter form for immediate families before she ends the call.

Keith puts away his pad before turning to regard Shiro with sly amusement. “You’re super cuddly today.”

“I’m just happy,” he says. “And you’re a cuddly person.”

He rolls his eyes, clearly doubtful of Shiro's faith in his apparent cuddliness. “Did my ‘r’s get you hot and bothered again.”

“Guilty as charged,” Shiro laughs as Keith captures him in a kiss.


	3. DAY 5 - Consentacles, Mind Meld & Brain Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my humble love letter to at least five of you who've captured my heart & loins for writing this specific kink of mine ^^;
> 
> be warned for: consentacles, altered mental states, mind meld, tentacles touching brains, etc. etc.

Yvnxhallor is a sex planet (a recreational planet for alien societies with more prudent sensibilities.) It’s a bit eldritch in nature, from the fact you can only find it if it wants you to, among all sorts of failsafes it plants to prevent tourists & patrons from abusing the powers of something capable of bringing all manners of species to the highest heights of ecstasy, capable of breaking minds and making them whole again without fuss.

There’s an entity on the planet (some argue that the planet itself is the entity) in the tangible form of a tentacle monster, because what’s an eldritch creature without its many fantastical limbs. Presently, Shiro and Keith are in one of the sex caves, wrapped in these tentacles, having encountered the planet on their way home from a long mission and decided they deserved a break.

There’s grace in what was being asked of you, to surrender to the giant, powerful tentacle monster oozing from the walls and know that your pleasure is in their control and you and your partner are just along for the ride.

Shiro gasps into Keith’s space, his body brought closer to Keith’s. The brush of their slicked, sensitive skin sends sparks of pleasure up their spines. Keith’s arched back is pillowed against a firm mound of monster flesh, his legs kept apart by tentacles wrapped around his ankles. His arms are similarly held above his head. Shiro’s are kept behind his back. Their only point of contact is the slick, sweaty straddle Shiro’s doing on Keith’s lap. Every inch of slide burns in the best way. Their hardened cocks bounce off each other with little control.

They don’t know how many times they’ve come already but something in the air, something in the slime and goo they’ve been exposed to is keeping their bodies going. Their nerves though…oh, their nerves are fried. Pleasure has been burned into their synpases that it’s all they’ve come to know.

Keith watches in heavy-lidded desire as the fat, ribbed tentacle in Shiro’s ass squelches deeper – in and out and in and out – like it’s been doing all this time, slowly and slowly robbing his husband of coherent thought. He’s hardly unaware of his own tentacle, something bulbous and deeply satisfying. He doesn’t remember how it was not to be filled.

“Shiro…” Keith moans.

“K-Keith,” Shiro pants, rutting helplessly against his husband’s cock with little power. He’s sore and aching and _aching_ for release but for this round, there are thin tentacles wrapped tightly around the bases of both their cocks, keeping them on the edge.

“God,” Keith says as he beholds him. Shiro’s eyes are black and glazed over in pleasure. His hair is mussed with sweat and slime. “I want to feel you.”

“Yes,” Shiro breathes. “ _Yes_ …feel. Want to…”

They shouldn’t. There’s no room in their bodies to feel anymore than this, they’re sure. But more tentacles emerge from the fleshy walls. They wind up their torsos, under the sensitive pits of their arms, around their necks. The entity’s gentle herbal scent fills their alcove and pleasantly mixes with the smells of their sex and sweat. It’s thick and heady, and Keith sees Shiro’s eyes glaze further at the tightening of the tentacle around his neck.

They both cry out as a warm one latches onto their backs with a bite, the sensation of something being injected lost in all the fluids that have come and flowed.

And then, between one heartbeat and the next, it becomes two.

Two sets of lungs inhaling damp air, twice the roar of blood in their ears, twice the feeling of fire in their loins, of a bulbous tentacle squirming in his ass along aside a fat, ribbed one—

“ _Shiro…_ ”

The thought bursts in his mind instead of his mouth and Keith’s eyes flutter shut at the onslaught of _pleasure good feelssogood Keith! sososgoodKeithKeith_ that rushes into him. Shiro. It’s Shiro. He feels what he feels. Keith feels how good Shiro feels and is blasted by how good _Shiro_ feels from feeling Keith feel good. It’s an exponential spiral of pleasure. Keith doesn’t know where Shiro ends and he begins.

The tighter squirm of tentacles anchors them back to their bodies. A needy whine slips from Shiro’s lips and Keith is brought closer to kiss him and _god_ , there’s twice the heat and slide of tongues. Neither of them has thought left to move or chase anything. Shiro straddles Keith, and Keith kisses Shiro and they both simply feel and _feel_ as much as the tentacles give. Sensations amplified in their minds.

Their cocks should have reached the point of pain. The steady squeeze of the tentacles around their necks should have overworked their straining heart and lungs to failing. Instead they climb higher, hotter, further and further until they’re both tightly bound – Shiro in Keith’s pleasure and Keith in Shiro’s.

They know this is the last they’ll come today, and it’s going to break them.

More and more tentacles ooze from the walls, nudging their way into open mouths, under nails, the crooks of elbows, up nostrils, the edges of half open eyes with even stronger, more impossible surges of pleasure.

Shiro is beautiful in his collapse and Keith wants - _needs_ to see. He sees and feels the caress of thin tentacles around his and Shiro’s ears, the sensual slide into them, the rich squelch before the muffling of all sound.

It’s so good. Everything feels _so good_ , it’s unreal. There’s a pressure in his head, of some indescribable feeling flooding slowly from frontal lobe to back. Keith’s vision is blurring. He can just barely see Shiro’s eyes roll up in his head as the thin tentacles push in and out of his ears. It’s happening to him too.

He trembles apart in the best way, bound and violated in the best way. He feels the impossible caress of tentacles in his brain, settling in the gaps and folds and valleys. Pulsing and pulsing with pleasure.

_KeithKeithKeithKeith_

Is all is left of Shiro.

_ShiroShiroShiro_

Is all is left of Keith.

The tentacles tighten all at once.


	4. DAY 6A - BoM members Galra!Shiro & Keith, Ear Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a dick goes in an ear! another one of my favorite (incredibly niche) things. if this isn't for you, head on over to 6B! if that isn't for you either, ah well ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> both Shiro & Keith are BoM members. everything is safe, sane & consensual! drive-by mention of bulging/inflation, if you are squicked by that

They still have a bottle.

It’s probably for the best that, while they knew where to get more of the stuff, getting there took a lot of damn time, because they would burn through their meager GAC buying it.

It’s a lubricant that allows fleshy, organic spaces to accommodate _more_ inside them – initially formulated to help partners of various alien species to enjoy carnal pleasures despite vast size differences, it’s found other kinky, creative uses with buyers.

Shiro was thoroughly grateful for it when he first thrust his cock inside Keith – the length of his forearm and as thick as a ration can, what would’ve eviscerated Keith, much less fit in his hole in the first place easily & mind-blowingly filled him. Shiro shivers as he remembers cupping his hand against the pleasant bulge in Keith’s abdomen, feeling the surge of his own dick through his guts while Keith had simply clung on for dear life, mouth hanging open, face wet from drool and tears, eyes rolled up in the back of his head as Shiro used him for his own pleasure.

Jerk off material for _movements_ , when both of them were on long, separate missions. Shiro shivers again. He supposes they’re making more now that–

“Babe,” Keith breathes into his ear. “You’re far away.”

Shiro sounds the trill that’s stuck in his throat. “Sorry,” he sighs. “I’m a little nervous.”

“We can stop any time,” Keith says, rubbing the sensitive shells of his ears between his fingers and indulgently scrubbing the furred spots behind them that never fails to kick up a purr in Shiro’s chest.

“I know,” he rumbles. “We have the bottle.”

“We have the bottle,” Keith agrees and cups his cheek. Shiro willingly goes and is sweetly kissed.

His eyes are bright and loving when he pulls away. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m ready.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

Shiro snorts. “I don’t remember being gentle with you.”

Keith makes a cute little huffing sound as he uncaps the lube and slicks up his cock. “Different body parts,” he says. “Things are meant to go up there, not so with yours.”

Shiro hums, pretty sure that things are meant to vacate more than enter but he lets it go as Keith’s slicked up hands return to his ears and rub them liberally with the lube. His eyes flutter shut as tingles and shivers zing down his neck, spread out from his spine and settle hotly in his belly.

His big (“attractively-shaped” – Keith) ears were sensitive enough on a normal day. The careful tracing of his fingers over bluish purple veins got Shiro hard (with only Keith. Only Keith is allowed to even get close to him this way), but the lube was something else.

The sensations were building up – slick slowly pooling into the crevices of his ear felt deliciously ticklish, even the blood pumping through his vessels felt so good. Keith’s hands lose the plot for a few minutes and indulge Shiro in a wonderful scalp massage.

He tips his head up with a smile, eyes still closed and laughs into the kiss Keith indulges him in. It’s sloppy and open and wet and amazing. Shiro will be long hard even before Keith gets his dick in his head.

They pull apart. Keith kisses his nose and laughs when his face scrunches up. Shiro watches fondly while Keith slicks up his hands again and looks at Shiro’s ear thoughtfully.

“Do I just open you like an asshole?”

It startles a laugh out of him. “You can try.”

Shiro feels the heat of Keith’s fingers first, before the tentative press of two of them into his ear canal, spreading the lube around its walls. The liquid does it’s job and easily enough, Keith eases in to the third knuckle with room for more. He feels the slow slide of the third finger into his head and _oh god, it feels so good._

“Shiro,” Keith breathes beside him, barely audible over the squelch in his ear and the muffling of sound with every slow thrust.

“It feels,” Shiro swallows, eyelids fluttering. “Stars, it feels really good. Please…put it in.”

Keith kisses his temple and moves to hover his crotch by the side of Shiro’s head. Not knowing what to do with his hands, one clutches at the sheets while the other supports the backs of Keith’s knees, just beneath his butt. The heat and press of his cock is intoxicating. He takes deep breaths, in anticipation and just because he enjoys the scent of Keith’s skin.

Keith’s hands scritch at his fur and card through his hair, finding purchase. “Are you ready?”

“Mmm, go ahead, baby.”

_Squelch._ There’s a rich, delicious squelch and _heat_ as Keith’s cock presses into his ear. He hears the rush of his own blood more than anything else. It feels; he _feels_ so much. The lube’s made him ten times more sensitive and combined with the deeply satisfying pleasure of being _filled,_ it feels incredible.

“Oh god, Shiro…You’re so tight.”

“D-deeper,” Shiro moans and grunts as the grip on his head tightens. “Feels so good, Keith please.”

Keith pulls back and _thrusts._ The sound muffles again as his balls slap against his cheek. Shiro keens. His head feels full. _So_ so so full. It’s a blissful feeling – one he’s having more and more difficulty parsing.

Sound washes in as Keith pulls back again and Shiro barely registers his own groan before the cock drives back in and god, _it’s so good._

_A cock_ , Shiro thinks dully before it’s thrust away. _A cock is fucking my head._

Keith watches, because it’s beautiful.

He watches Shiro’s eyes darken and haze as Keith bottoms out. His mouth slowly hangs open and the grip of his large hand on his ass grows slack.

Shiro grunts in time to Keith’s thrusts, more and more gone by the second. His thoughts slow down as they're slowly taken over by pleasure. His mind feels every shudder and twitch of Keith’s cock, of the rigid swell before, before...

Keith sees Shiro's eyes roll up into this head, and he's rapidly undone.

Heat. Liquid heat in Shiro's head. Keith’s come pools in the spaces where they shouldn't, coating his brain. There are no thoughts, only a mind filled with cock. Come blurts from his ear, past the tight squeeze of Keith's dick, and drips down his throat. Shiro barely registers himself coming as well before he knows nothing more.


	5. DAY 6B - Scents & Smells, Shiro's got a Thing for Keith's feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what it says on the tin with a side of D/s undertones. if this isn't for you, try 6A! or neither! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Shiro perks up at the sound of their front door swinging open and shut and the clink of keys being dropped into the bowl on the dresser drawer.

He could be embarrassed at the flood of joy he feels, but he really isn’t. He’s been holed up in his office all day while Keith was training new recruits, Earth, Blade and alien alike. Shiro had unabashedly drawn up the camera feed so he could watch alongside interplanetary video calls to keep him sane.

Tonight, he knows Keith will be tired, and Shiro can give him a massage if he’s up for it.

“Keeeeith,” Shiro sings, traipsing from his study and into Keith’s arms.

Keith laughs indulgently and scrubs his hands up and down Shiro’s back, not unlike the pets he gave Kosmo just outside after he had landed. “I’m home.”

“Welcome back,” Shiro says and snuffles into the crook of his shoulder and neck. He loves Keith’s smell after a long day – of sun and the day’s sweat mingling with the fabric of his uniform, the shampoo from the morning’s shower having faded into the sweet scent of his hair.

Keith chuckles and pulls Shiro’s face into a kiss, open and slow, the magic of being able to come home to each other as husbands thriving and alive for days and years to come.

“How was your day?” he asks gently, nose to nose with his arms resting on Shiro’s shoulders and Shiro’s big hands on his hips. They haven’t moved much away from the door.

“Mmm boring,” he presses a quick kiss to Keith’s lips. “I watched your training session all day.”

The look Keith gives him sends heat trailing down Shiro’s spine. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Iverson thought I was constantly checking some notes off screen and told me to stop looking so serious for a bit. Your mom knew better, though.”

Keith giggles as he begins kissing his face again, unable to help himself.

“So,” Shiro starts.

“So,” Keith says back.

“You’ve had a long day.”

“Mhmm.”

“I would like,” Shiro kisses Keith’s forehead. “To give you,” then his nose. “A foot massage.” His chin.

He pulls back just in time to see Keith take a breath, emotions flipping across his face – from bashful surprise to fond exasperation – before settling on desire, his pupils blowing out wide.

They both know where this is going.

“Oh Shiro,” Keith breathes out and kisses him again because he can. “You are too good to me.”

Shiro hums as his husband cards his fingers through his hair. “Nothing less than what you deserve, baby. Now go get comfy on the couch.”

Shiro takes the peppermint tea tree balm from their bedroom and hops back to the living room as Keith is settling in. He’s shed his Marmora Commander’s wrap and is waiting in his underthings and socks on the indulgently stuffed reclining chair.

Shiro kneels as his feet and looks up with such open adoration that steals Keith’s breath. Shiro kisses his knee and reverently takes on leg onto his lap, kneading the tired muscles loose. They fall into peaceful quiet, Keith basking under Shiro’s attention and slowly, blessedly being able to let the day go. Shiro’s focus slowly hones in on his task. His world narrows down to Keith’s comfort and the motions of his hands to bring about this comfort.

Legs loose and limp, Shiro moves on. He hooks his thumbs in the cuff of Keith’s sock and slowly slides it down, laying worship to the soft skin of the top of his foot, then the rough patch on his ankle bone, the tough pad of his heel, and the in-betweens of his toes. He digs his thumbs into the fleshy sole and takes a greedy breath, eyes fluttering shut as the gentle acrid smell saturates his brain.

Shiro loves it.

He's enjoyed the scents and smells of men’s bodies for as long as he knew he was attracted to them - the proof of a hard day’s work, of being earthly and human. But he hasn’t become quite as addicted to anyone’s smell as he has with Keith's. Every part of him Shiro absolutely loves.

Plot lost, he blearily opens his eyes to Keith’s other, albeit cold, foot de-socked and resting by his neck. He keens as the toe caresses his cheek and the smell intensifies. He’s dully aware of how hard he’s gotten in his sweats. A thick glob of precome oozes from the slit and soaks into his underwear.

Keith watches him, eyes dark, and bites his lip as Shiro breathes and breathes, open mouthed, licks and drools and kisses his feet. He drops one foot to the tent on Shiro’s pants and steps down, just to savor his husband shudder deliciously, his eyes glaze further and the outline of his dick twitch as the fabric darkens even more.

“Can I finish you off?” Keith asks, wiggling his toes against Shiro’s cheek while his other foot continues to press against him.

“Yeah,” Shiro says breathless. “Yeah, Keith please.”

Keith hums and toes down the waistbands of both the sweats and underwear. He captures Shiro's cock between his big toe and second toe, collecting precome on the slow glide upwards. He pinches the mushroomed head a little, before sliding all of this toes across it. He hovers them in front of Shiro’s face to suck. And Shiro does.

It’s good. _It's so good_ , it's too much. His senses are overloaded with his own taste mixed with the stench and salt of Keith’s skin. He feels his eyes roll up in his head as he comes, untouched.

Overhead, Keith smiles and bends down to capture Shiro's slack mouth in a beatific kiss.


	6. DAY 4 - Age gap, drugs, consensual non-consent, top!Shiro & bottom!Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're nearly twenty years apart. they do some poppers. there's light D/s. keith enjoys control being taken from him.
> 
> based on a true experience. not mine, but god i wish it were.

You have your cherry popped by a guy nearly twice your age.

You meet him at some house party Pidge drags you to. There was promise of pot and while you’ve never tried it, you’ve always been curious. She tells you Matt has acquired himself a stash and you ask if their parents know about this. She tells you with a grimace that her parents are the type who say “If our kids want to do pot, we’ll do it together. As a family.”

Never once have they done a pot session as a family.

You laugh at her and she shoves your shoulder.

Eventually, she abandons you for shitty beer and Engineering fellows a batch lower than you but higher than hers. You don’t fault her for it. You’ve never thought you were the best company, but you wish she hadn’t done it at a party of all places, with people you barely know.

You hang out at the kitchen island overlooking the living room, nursing a cold beer when you spot him. Or rather, you hear a barking laugh coming from the couch and don’t mean to find the source of it. But he’s magnetic, of course he is. He’s sat with Matt Holt, the gracious host of their party, laughing at his jokes along with …what looks like a hodgepodge of friends. Pidge did mention that they had a college reunion (a batch of twenty years past) but they ditched it to get together at the Holt residence instead.

The information does very little for you. You came with the promise of finally finding out what it’s like to lose your mind a little. You get up off the island chair to grab another slice of cold pizza and a new beer from the cooler, briefly debating whether to find Pidge and tolerate her loud friends or say hi to Matt and cut to the chase.

“Man, what does a guy gotta do to get pot around here?” you mumble under your breath.

“You came for pot?” says a deep voice behind you.

You startle badly and barely manage to save the pizza by squashing it against the paper plate to keep both from falling.

“Dude—” You are going to wallop this guy.

“Oh god, sorry, sorry—”

Or not. Your eyes widen. It’s magnetic man from the couch. He’s even larger up close – broad shoulders, bulging biceps, a chiseled jaw, a gorgeous nose, cute big ears and the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes you shouldn’t find immediately, devastatingly charming also _you have been staring_.

“Um.”

“Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”

“It’s fine.” You wiggle the palm cheese back on the pizza and wash your hands with full plans to still eat the slice.

“I’m Shiro,” he says, grabbing a beer.

“Keith.”

“Keith,” Shiro repeats and _jesus_ , you don’t think you’ve heard your name said that way before. You frown and will away the tingle in your gut.

“Mind company?”

Your body does that thing where you lose control of it in situations you just don’t know what to do and end up shrugging and stuffing half the pizza in your mouth. Undeterred, Shiro talks with you and it’s surprisingly pleasant.

You both like motorbikes and joyrides. He’s impressed by your work at your uncle’s mechanics shop partly funding you through college. You’re impressed by his…everything – the bionic arm, the pilot career, the Super Mario-themed cat tree (could it still be called a tree if he basically outfitted his entire house with the course?) he built for his two cats, Black and Atlas whom he has pictures of on his phone, his sexual experience.

He’s never once patronizing toward you and treats your pot curiosity a pragmatism you can appreciate. Sticking to natural highs like sex are healthier than drugs, Shiro says and you ask if he’s ever done some stuff. He smiles wryly and you have an insightful discussion on mind-altering substances, the pleasure found in giving up control and turning off your brain for a little while. With how tightly you hold your own life under your control, the concept of giving it up is…it’s very attractive.

You find yourself surprised to admit this to someone you just met, but if you’re going to be honest with yourself, you wouldn’t mind losing your mind to Shiro.

You have a few more beers before you willingly lean into each other’s spaces. The party goes on outside of your kitchen refuge. You’re pleasantly buzzed and in good company. You’ve come here for a good time and damn if you aren’t going to have one.

His size encasing you against the wall is rousing something inside you that you didn’t know was there. Shiro noses behind your ear to trail a line of gentle kisses down your throat. You feel him smile against your skin when you hum in pleasure.

“Come back to my place?” says Shiro.

“Yes,” you say back.

He calls a taxi that takes you both to his house some ways outside campus grounds. Shiro barely latches the door when he’s turning to you, cupping your face in both his large hands and kissing you deep. You’ve been kissed before, but it pales in comparison to this. Shiro presses his knee between your legs and your mouth gasps open. He licks into you with hunger and you moan as you feel yourself stiffening in your pants. Part of you is terrified of creaming yourself right then and there, another part of you doesn’t care.

“You’ve had sex before, right?” Shiro asks you breathily.

“Um,” it takes a moment for you to come back online. “Mutual jerk off?”

Shiro grabs your ass and you grind further up his thigh. “So you’ve never taken someone back here? Or did the taking?”

You shake your head. “Never liked someone enough to…” You see the pupils of Shiro’s lovely grey eyes blow out and _oh_ , oh he likes that.

He kisses you again, peppering them on your jaw and down your neck. “You’ve never had someone eat you out?”

 _Jesus_ , you want someone to, now. Shiro chuckles warmly at your honesty. “If you’re still up for losing your mind, I have some good stuff downstairs.”

“Downstairs?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

“My sex dungeon,” he says and it startles a laugh out of you. Shiro mentioned this earlier that night. He loves having sex and has had various partners. Of course this Adonis of a man has a sex dungeon.

It’s not, in fact, a dungeon. It would’ve passed for an unassuming guestroom on the lower level with a nice en suite had it not been for the Sybian tucked away in a corner by a large dresser that doesn’t take much imagining to presume what it contains.

It’s clean. There’s a firm bed with a fitted sheet. No pillows. Just a surface on which to get fucked.

You realize you’re shaking – a cocktail of nervousness, fear, arousal, and shame. You’ve never gone out looking for sex before, you’ve never done drugs, and here you are in the sex basement of a guy’s house about to experience both in one night and you have no clue how it can go. It could be the greatest night of your life. It could be a complete, utterly traumatizing disaster, and you desperately don’t want it to be. Shiro’s so nice…

“Baby, _Keith._ ”

Your head snaps up and Shiro has your hands in his. His gaze on you is impossibly soft and you begin to tremble for an entirely different reason.

“We can stop—”

“No! No, I want…to have sex with you.” You wince at how juvenile you sound, but before you can further chide yourself, Shiro presses a kiss to your forehead and the clench in your chest eases a fraction.

“Of course, baby boy,” and well _that_ does something to your insides. “Suck me off and let’s see where we go from there, yeah?”

You nod and kneel between his knees. You take Shiro’s cock into your mouth and it’s…it’s nice. The taste of him is clean and inoffensive. His musk fills your nose and mouth and you start to lose yourself a little. His fingers thread their way through your hair and scratch at your scalp and _god_ , that feels good. The way he hardens inside your mouth, the way _Keith_ spills from his lips, his grunts and moans fill you with a sense of accomplishment. You’ve made him feel good and you want to keep making him feel good.

Shiro guides you through his pleasure. You close your eyes as listen to his voice – you slide the flat of your tongue up his cock and suckle the head before feeling ambitious and swallowing him whole. Shiro groans and hits the back of your throat. Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head. He keeps you there until your heartbeat pounds in your ears. At the last second, he pulls back and you inhale so big you feel lightheaded.

Shiro pets your hair as you gently hold his cock in your mouth. Your mind is quiet.

“Keith,” he rasps. It makes you feel small, safe. The pleasure zings from your head down your spine and straight to your dick. “Perfect…” He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deep.

He tells you to get on the bed because he’s gonna eat you out and you eagerly shuck your pants & undies and lie on your back. Shiro laughs, palms your butt and just goes to town. You yelp. You’ve never had someone eat you out before, much less consider any pleasure being had down there and _god_ , you’re glad it’s Shiro. It’s Shiro’s hot expert tongue and fingers lighting fire to nerve endings you had _no idea_ were that sensitive. Before long, your hole is spasming and throbbing sweetly, and all your blood has gone south.

“Shiro…”

“You said you wanted to lose your mind a little?” Shiro says in his gorgeous deep voice. His grin is boyish and deepens the creases by his eyes you adore so much.

“Hell yeah.”

You watch him grab a washcloth and a spray can from the dresser and spray on it. It’s called Amsterdam, he says. About as mild as poppers, short-term effects without the hangover. He tells you to hold the cloth to your nose and breathe deep, so you do.

It takes a moment, as Shiro returns between your knees and runs his hands up and down your legs. It starts with a roaring, the feeling of sound, an ocean, a fog, tingles and buzzing that travels up from your lungs and fills the spaces of your emptying head. Shiro’s hands don’t feel like hands; they feel like ten million hands caressing your skin from upside down and it feels so strange, so much. Your mouth hangs open, senses dulled and sensations sharp. You can’t grasp it, and something tells you to just not, but it’s slow to come. You’re aware of _everything_ , but just wasn’t processing them right.

You come down in stages. You realize you’ve gotten quiet; Shiro is back at your ass with his tongue and now two fingers, unminding of your silence. Still floating, still fuzzy, you wonder how long the high was. It could have been a minute or three, but it felt longer. With a laugh you realize that that's when you'd take another hit.

“How is it?” Shiro asks, crawling up to you.

You touch your face, you touch his face and run your fingers through his hair without reserve just to _feel_ before your nerve endings right themselves once more. Shiro leans into your touch. “Good,” you say, breathless and punched out. “It’s weird…but it’s good.”

“Some say it enhances sex.”

“Like…like a butt relaxant?”

“If you’re still too tight and I’m still too big.”

You were loosened up before - Shiro’s mouth is fantastic - but at the thought, you clench right up.

He grins again. “Wanna kill a few more brain cells?”

And god, the Amsterdam felt good but you want Shiro inside you even more. You shimmy back as he loads up the washcloth with another dose. You leave the cloth sitting over your nose and breathe deep, anticipating the roar in your head.

You groan as you feel Shiro press into you, the delicious pop of his mushroomed head past your entrance just as your nerve endings go funny again. You watch the scrunch and slack of Shiro’s handsome face as he pushes into you, bit by filling bit. The tingles race up and down your spine again and your arms fizz from the insides like your body is made of pop rocks.

But Shiro’s big. He knows it’s your first time, he’s eaten you out enough to make you think you can take him but now you don’t know if you can. There's enough lube, you’re sure. It’s dripping down your buttcheeks, but Shiro is big and you’re tense and the dose is wearing off. You’ve lost control of your limbs, your voice. You make to move your hand and signal him to stop or slow down, or maybe he'll see it on your face. You don't want him to stop, but you just…he just needs to…Shiro…

Shiro, without breaking the steady glide into you, calmly picks up the can and sprays another dose directly on the washcloth over your nose.

Instantly, your mind shuts down. You feel your eyes roll into the back of your head. Whether or not your ass loosens up for Shiro to drive into is between him and God. You’ve been hurled on a high and held there. Stars, pleasure in the form of little stars, spread from your nethers, up your chest, to your neck, out your head and into next week. Everything feels so strange, so good - from the grip of your hands on Shiro’s forearms, to the stiffness of the mattress on your back, the tears in the corners of your eyes, the drool down the side of your chin, your neglected, throbbing cock, to the gorgeous blissful burn of Shiro thrusting in and out of your ass.

Eventually, Shiro comes, flooding your insides with delicious heat. Eventually, you come down, floaty, hazed and trembling. He lies down beside you and peppers kisses on your hands. You try to sit up and move but he strokes your face and hushes you gently.

Then you realize the dazed ‘thank you’s spilling from your lips. And not just for fucking you so good, but for taking your mind, seeing when you hurt and helping you by spraying you with another dose.

“No, thank _you_ , Keith,” Shiro whispers against your temple and into your hair. “You were perfect. You were so perfect.”

You have your cherry popped by a guy nearly twice your age.

And it’s that moment you keep returning to, the moment that has your jerk off sessions last mere minutes for weeks. It's the memory of cool, steel grey eyes - Shiro's unbroken gaze as he picks up the can and drugs you. Without thinking, without asking, without caring.

Up until then, Shiro had given you control. You placed the washcloth over your own face, you took his cock into your mouth. He checked in with you and you were okay. Up until that moment – when you were shattered and hovering in tiny buzzing pieces, out of your mind, he drugged you. Sent you deeper, higher. Wrenched control from you in faith that you had gladly given it up.

And you had. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. Blessedly out of your mind and simply used for someone else’s pleasure. For Shiro’s pleasure.

You swallow and gather the courage to call and ask to see him again.


	7. DAY 2 - Hunk's POV, kinda exhibitionism, bullet vibes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know what else to say. no one's job gets jeopardized and Keith and Shiro have a lovely time. Hunk is only marginally traumatized.

Shiro is missing his right thumb.

Hunk doesn’t want to know, or rather, he knows and can’t decide what to feel about it. On the one hand, Shiro and Keith are his friends whose asses have been beat to hell and back. If anyone deserves happiness with each other, it’s them. On the other hand, he looks up to them both and it’s weird to know how…active? And risqué their sex life is? Is there a protocol to knowing about these things?

He decides he’s happy for them. He loves love and seeing people happy and in love. After everything they’ve been through, it’s warming to see Shiro & Keith be able to _be_ that.

Although…

Hunk supposes there’s some psychology to it but he doesn’t know enough to say what it is. Because everyone is so focused on what’s happening during the board meeting they're having at the moment, no one is going to notice Shiro’s missing thumb even when he gesticulates with his right hand it since it’s not what’s occupying their attention. Hunk guesses that’s the trick they’re relying on, or maybe the thrill of it? (Oh god, he doesn’t know.)

On the other hand, once you notice it, _you_ _can’t stop looking_.

Shiro and Keith are sitting side by side as is usual. Shiro’s attention is on the delegate speaking while Keith browses his notes on his datapad. Shiro then checks something, too – and Hunk really wishes he was looking away – but Shiro does a little tap, and Keith jolts, does a little shimmy in his seat, and then flushes.

Hunk desperately looks down at his own datapad and realizes he has no notes of his own to distract himself with, only a group chat with Lance, Pidge & Matt that’s tapered off into memes thirty minutes ago. Hunk can’t help but glance up again; he can’t help it – it’s wired in him to pay attention to who’s speaking – he catches a glimpse of Keith.

His breathing has deepened; he doesn’t look like he’s seeing his notes anymore as his gaze unfocuses –

“Commander Keith?”

“Wh – yes?”

And Shiro does that thing when you flick the touchscreen with your finger like it’s the most natural thing when in actuality, you’re hiding the previous screen.

“Are the Blades amenable to the arrangements?”

Hunk wishes he had listened, and took notes on what the hell the arrangements are in case Shiro and Keith need help because he’s so concerned suddenly, but Keith's eyes look clearer, he clears his throat and says he’ll consult with his Generals and Kolivan and blah blah blah, _of course_ he has this under control.

Thus the meeting continues.

It’s absolutely nerve-wrecking, seeing Shiro grow bolder in real time surrounded by all these officials, and important people and delegates from all these different planets and Keith inching close and closer to being _gone_ –

Oh, Hunk curses the gossip monger in his heart, after hopelessly fiddling with his datapad apps, he looks up again and, and…and

Shiro’s looking at him.

Hunk is frozen. He goes wide-eyed. He swallows and subtly presses his thighs together as Shiro – his commanding officer, his _friend_ – grins, boyish and wicked, and taps the button again.


	8. DAY 7 - Nontraditional ABO, Ritual Public Sex, Aphrodisiacs, alpha!Shiro & omega!Keith

There’s a surprising (or unsurprising?) amount of alien civilizations who consider it of the highest honor for esteemed heroes and personages to participate in their cultures’ sacred rites, usually weddings.

After the war, there was a lot of …things to do, and a lot of people to appease (or discourage) just enough that anyone with the capability to try and take over the entire universe again would think that the effort wasn’t as worth it as just keeping to themselves, having decent interplanetary relations and just a more peaceful, prosperous time than then last ten thousand years.

It should have been a no-brainer that none of the Voltron Paladins had been trained for diplomacy, aside from Allura (although the formal part of it was with Altean culture in mind – the ancient kind too.) Shiro was rather forced into it, Hunk had a really good disposition for it, Keith was representative of it, but everyone was a space explorer at heart – pilot, mechanic, engineer, scientist. None of them had been there either when the Garrison gleefully cast aside their poor veneer and went full military, so after ensuring the Earth wasn’t going to turn into an egotistical, power hungry intergalactic force and the various planets that found themselves without rule (or even evidence of their old way of life) weren’t going to go up in flames, they took a well deserved break to do their own things – Shiro & Keith exploring the stars guilt-free at Krolia’s behest.

Needless to say, it was a lot of fun discovering the different ways you could get married to the love of your life. And there were _a lot._ It was rather embarrassing in some ways, since enough time had elapsed that legends had been passed on to at least one generation. Worshipful art was being painted in caves alongside many dramas, movies, and books being made. The greatest love story the universe has ever seen, they said.

Presently, Shiro and Keith are on a small planet, Viaskhan, where its denizens have something called Dynamics – strong biological predispositions to either become pregnant (omegas) or impregnate (alphas), the degree of strength of this predisposition rather too intricate for Shiro and Keith to fully understand (and for the translator to translate). The evolution came to be because it was difficult for the Vias to conceive, and when offspring _are_ born, the community takes great care in ensuring they grow strong and well.

The wedding rites Shiro and Keith have been so graciously asked to participate in is the Paðliy Otis (or Otis for short).

“We celebrate the opportunity to create life,” explained the elderly matriarch as Shiro was being prepared for the evening. He hadn’t seen Keith in some twelve vargas, having only been cryptically told he was undergoing his own preparations. “—as a community.”

According to the physicians, Shiro had the predisposition of alpha, while Keith had one of omega. And because neither of them was of Viaskhani constitution, they were told their respective rut and heat were to be artificially induced with aphrodisiacs. “Everyone has Dynamics," said the elder. "Your planets and genetics are prosperous enough that you have no need of them. But they are there.”

Shiro was bathed by other members of said community who’ve had their own Otis, all alphas. He had a moment of resistance being doted on before he reluctantly indulged in being pampered.

“You will fight for your omega,” the matriarch explained as he was being oiled. “As Naas Modi did. Your Keith shall know the smell of your exertion and seek you blind—”

“—blind? _—_ ”

“Like Anu Linor, incapacitated for their fevered attempts to escape, he shall find you. And you shall consummate your wedding on the ceremonial dais.”

“— _consummate?_ —"

Thus Shiro finds himself with only a square cloth for modesty, beginning his own Paðliy Otis.

It’s arguably one of their strangest weddings yet. As far as he knows, neither he nor Keith have particularly hard reservations about intimacy. They’ve indulged in the thrill of trying not to get caught in public, participated in weddings in the nude as custom dictates, fought all manners of creatures including each other as their declaration of love, but they haven’t needed to have sex in front of some council of elders to validate their union (they don’t, technically, but at this point it’s only polite).

Sure, the concept is rather awkward by Earth standards, but with what they’ve seen and been through, it's hardly a hardship.

The ceremonial dais is circular and huge, with what seems to be a slab toward an edge draped with luxuriously soft furs. The Vias, of age and older, are around them, settled casually on cushions and rugs on the ground in similar or zero state of dress. There is casual conversation and drinks, though the food is not until after the Otis is done.

There are drummers – not unlike taiko drummers, Shiro thinks – pounding a powerful beat that shakes the earth. It’s an incredible atmosphere; it’s charged, it’s heady, it’s homely. The space explorer part of him marvels at how this mix of casual comfort and formal ceremony contributes to the belonging and strength of Viaskhani community. The rest of Shiro is riding the waves, acutely aware of his own body and what he’s about to do (even though the exact details have been withheld from him – “You’ll know.”) but also too big for it, his excess joining the rest of the Vias in their excitement.

A hush falls over the crowd. The drums maintain their steady beat. Six omegas emerge from the other end of the camp bearing a gold palanquin on their shoulders. Atop it – Shiro inhales – is Keith, draped in gold. Fine chains artfully cross his shoulders and chest. Some manner of pelvic armor keeps his wrists fastened behind his back, slender legs folded beneath him with more jewelry glinting off his ankles.

He’s set down upon the slab on the soft furs. Two omegas remain to flank him, each one gripping his shoulder and bicep, with considerable effort, Shiro notes. Finer threads of gold and gems have been woven into his hair was well and fall prettily over his eyes – his eyes…

 _Blind_ , Shiro recalls. And they might as well are – sclera tinged yellow as a sign of loosened emotional control, pupils dilated – _black_ – unable to contract as Keith turns his head, as if trying to see where Shiro could be, even though he’s practically in front of him.

There’s part of Shiro that raises its hackles at the thought of Keith unwillingly bound, but he recognizes the redness of his flush, the deepness of his breathing, the one piece of covering on him doing nothing to hide the fact that he’s at half-mast. In the dying light of day, Keith’s inner thighs shine with slick and Shiro nearly groans. The omegas are _holding him back._

“Begin the rites.”

Ceremonial drink is poured into Shiro’s mouth and a rush of energy and heat course through his veins. The drums beat harder as he slowly makes his way towards Keith on the slab, but other Vias come into view.

 _You will fight for your omega_ , he recalls dimly, body moving before the memory finishes. It is not the loss of control Shiro feels. He has enough sense to know not to hurt the alphas coming at him, only get them out of the way, and boy, _does he want them out of the way._

His senses have sharpened to the point of oversensitiveness – his body feels light and powerful as he throws his opponents over his shoulders left and right. Four attempt to dogpile him but he dodges with quick feet and they slam into each other off the dais. He feels the sheen of sweat coating his skin. He smells it mingling with the oils they rubbed on him. He can smell the other alphas, the soil and stone beneath his bare feet. He can smell Keith – oh _Keith_.

It’s familiar and new all at once, sweet and thick. It calls to him, it compels him to be a good alpha, a worthy alpha – he throws down the last opponent and stands, victorious, chest heaving. Keith has squirmed from his captors’ grip and stumbles forward, scenting the air (or rather taking frenzied inhales trying to find Shiro), unseeing eyes wide and desperate.

They meet each other halfway, crashing into each other chest first before lips. Keith buries his face in the sweaty crook of Shiro’s neck and _keens_.

“Shiro,” he breathes, and takes another heaving, greedy inhale. “Shiro bite me, please, _alpha.”_

Shiro growls. He noses the tender spot where Keith’s neck meets shoulder and does. Firm. His teeth are blunt but it’ll leave a wicked bruise to last _movements_ and Keith cries out, spurting come between their bellies.

“Oh god, Keith…”

They fall back onto the center of the dais (where someone has strategically moved the furs to). Shiro is burning up. Straddling atop him, Keith is burning up. The bite has done it’s purpose, though, as Keith's eyes have regained their sight and he’s looking at him in wide-eyed wonder, hunger.

Their lips meet in a desperate kiss as Shiro surges up and unclasps Keith from his bonds. Without wasting any time, Keith plants his hands on the taut, sweaty plane of Shiro’s abs, lines his slick, dripping asshole with Shiro’s cock and sinks himself in one go.

Twin cries echo in the air. The drums beat louder and the congregation cheers but Shiro and Keith don’t see or hear them. Their worlds have narrowed down to each other, to Shiro inside Keith’s ass and Keith impaling himself over and over again on his dick. Their eyes never leave each other's face. Shiro sits up to meet Keith’s thrusts with his hips, their foreheads resting against each other, the air they breathe saturated with the scent of each other’s cloying heat-rut scent and sex. It’s heady. It's intoxicating. Shiro feels he’s wildly losing control, unraveling fast,

“I love you,” he gasps. “ _Keith,_ I love you so much. No one...there’s no one in the universe I can love more—”

“ _Shiro,_ ” Keith moans and bounces faster and faster on his cock. “Shiro, I love you—god, I love you… _ahn!_ ”

He groans as Keith tightens around him, hips stuttering and _something_ —a gigantic wave cresting from deep inside him, exploding out his cock and taking his consciousness with it.

Shiro wakes the next morning, mind blank for some minutes before slowly taking stock of where he is. His body hurts. Good hurt, like he’s been sparring all of yesterday (which he kinda was.) They’ve been brought back to their quarters on the plush bed, oddly clean, but naked under the blankets. There might be a lavish breakfast tray nearby if his nose isn't deceiving him. He rolls over just in time to see Keith stir awake.

His eyes are bleary, but only from slumber. Once he finds Shiro’s face, he smiles sweetly.

“Hi.” Oh, his voice is deliciously raspy and Shiro feels himself twitch.

“Hi.”

They gaze at each other for a while before Shiro asks, “What did they do with you?”

“They gave my drink early, so it could wear off just in time for you to find me.”

A joy blooms in Shiro’s heart at the words. “I found you.”

Keith’s smile is blinding. “You did. You found me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand kink week's a wrap!


End file.
